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Life. Don't talk to me about Life.
Jan. 9th, 2008 10:09 pmI was hoping to post this from Stansted Airport, whither I travelled in an unfamiliar vehicle as practice for Camp Sparkle in order to collect my Bun, who has returned from Austria. However, my laptop didn't seem eager to play nicely with the wossname in the airport, so I just read porn through some of my Wallow-In-Progress until Bun presented herself to me.
The unfamiliar vehicle in question was not, of course, a minibus. That delight yet awaits me. (Incidentally, I'd be glad to have a clue how many of you will need to be minibus-enabled so that I know what size to get.) We have, in fact, a new car. It arrived on Friday, so goodbye to my tank-like and unmanoeuvrable Volvo estate with the sublimely comfortable, heated, blue leather seats and truly cavernous boot. Instead we have a bug-shaped Prius which can *turn corners*, yay! It's a bit like driving a Noddy car, having an automatic when I've spent, um, over twenty years changing gear. Also, they have considerately placed the parking brake where the clutch was, so it is particularly important not to allow the left leg to perform its accustomed actions as I approach, say, a roundabout. Well. We shall see.
Bun seems to have had a good time, and seen a few patches of Austria, including Proper Snow!
We watched a dvd together this evening, 'Music and Lyrics', which just suits my soppy romantic soul and also made us laugh. Lovely script, and Hugh Grant is, somewhat to my consternation, very good in it. And, inevitably, the main song is now stuck in Bun's head and in mine.
But, woez, I am ending the evening on a note of dismay, having received a communication about the show-in-production which means I am going to have to Do Something, and soon, and gah. Bloody hell.
The unfamiliar vehicle in question was not, of course, a minibus. That delight yet awaits me. (Incidentally, I'd be glad to have a clue how many of you will need to be minibus-enabled so that I know what size to get.) We have, in fact, a new car. It arrived on Friday, so goodbye to my tank-like and unmanoeuvrable Volvo estate with the sublimely comfortable, heated, blue leather seats and truly cavernous boot. Instead we have a bug-shaped Prius which can *turn corners*, yay! It's a bit like driving a Noddy car, having an automatic when I've spent, um, over twenty years changing gear. Also, they have considerately placed the parking brake where the clutch was, so it is particularly important not to allow the left leg to perform its accustomed actions as I approach, say, a roundabout. Well. We shall see.
Bun seems to have had a good time, and seen a few patches of Austria, including Proper Snow!
We watched a dvd together this evening, 'Music and Lyrics', which just suits my soppy romantic soul and also made us laugh. Lovely script, and Hugh Grant is, somewhat to my consternation, very good in it. And, inevitably, the main song is now stuck in Bun's head and in mine.
But, woez, I am ending the evening on a note of dismay, having received a communication about the show-in-production which means I am going to have to Do Something, and soon, and gah. Bloody hell.